I didn't say it was your fault, I said I was blaming you
by mandyd
Summary: "You have to tell Roger you don't want to share a room with me." Mello raged. "Why?" Matt inquired. "I'm allergic to redheads." Matt grinned. "Bullshit." Mello tightened his fists. "Freckles give me panic attacks." Matt giggled. "I'm gay and I'll probably try to catch a glimpse of your dick while you shower." Mello proclaimed. "Do you want me to make it easier for you?" He asked.
1. Five strikes left

A/N: How many times has this type of story been done before? Don't care. Time to throw mine in the middle.

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Five strikes left**

( _Breakfast nuisance_ )

"Heard you are in trouble." A short but almost athletically built blond girl with amber coloured eyes collapsed into the seat across from Mello, harshly placing a tray containing a bowl full of porridge on the table.

"Heard you are shagging Drake every Wednesday after that half-arsed latin poetry class which, by the way," he took a swig from his lattè "is a pathetic schedule choice considering you could be taking Advanced Experimental and Research Psychology in the fifth period." Mello snapped sharply as she rolled her eyes. "Beg your pardon, aren't we playing that game where we both make obvious statements?"

"Are you this rude to everyone else too?" Linda asked before quickly slipping a spoon of breakfast into her mouth.

"Yes." The boy marvelled. "Don't think you are special." He proceeded to pick one of the strips of toast from his tray, dipping it in a soft boiled egg before allowing it to make its way to his mouth.

"What have you done?" She inquired.

"Why are you shagging Drake? Doesn't the mole on his plonker bother you?" Mello counterattacked.

Linda outlined a grimace. "In case you haven't noticed, I am eating."

"I have noticed. I cannot believe _you_ haven't noticed _that_."

"I don't get it" she begun coolly "how come you don't want to brag about your latest prank?"

"There's no prank." Mello said firmly. "Don't you have a distorted fruit bowl to paint?"

"At least three kids saw you leaving Roger's office last night."

"Went there for some tea and a pleasant game of checkers." He dodged. "You know, you don't get to drink black kurrant tea down here - which I personally take as an offence to my refined taste."

"I might not be runner up in the rank but I'm not stupid."

Mello grinned. "Being number thirteen in the rank is quite close to that, though."

"Are you going to deny you got called into the office last night?"

"I never denied _that._ "

"So?"

"I told you the truth - there is no prank. I haven't even seen that white sheep in the past two or three days - god only knows what kind of crazy ritual he has been attempting to do in his dorm during winter break." He raised an eyebrow and stopped for a second. "Wait - why am I explaining myself _to you_?"

"Telling me what happened last night would be the quicker way to get rid of me." The girl stated as she finished her meal, pushing the tray aside.

"Why make it quick when I can make it painful for you?" Mello replied while getting up from his sit, starting a quick paced march towards the dining hall exit.

"I'm gonna find out sooner of later." Linda exclaimed loudly form the table.

"Oh no - better go to my room cry in fetal position until the night comes and takes this torment away form me!" Mello replied in a dramatic tone from the corridor.

Making his way up to his dorm, he couldn't help but think about the concurrently confusing and terrifying situation he found himself in. Every piece of information he told Linda - with the exception of the tea and checkers part - was true. He hadn't done anything punishable in the last days; yet he had been called into the headmaster's office last night for a rather disturbing conversation he couldn't stop thinking about.

For all he knew, his days at Wammy's House could be counted due to a stupid rule he was never warned about and - even worst - he was too close for comfort of being excluded from the succession line, which pretty much meant he was one step away from loosing everything he ever wanted (and knew) in his meaningless 17-year-old-life.

"Watch your way." Mello bursted as he bumped into a slender redhead who wandered bluntly at the entrance hall, blocking the way to the stairs that led to the first floor where the boys dorms were located. The other boy barely had time to react - though the muttered a muffled an apology - as the blond vanished into the stairway.

( _About Matt_ )

Matt was tall. He had a bright unnatural red hair that contoured his pale face down to the cheeks. He was somehow handsome - had a long straight nose, good skin, nice teeth and a crooked smile. Matt played video games better than everyone else he had ever met and had a very distinctive walk: lazy but self-possessing altogether, able to suggest that he was either as comfortable being wherever he was as he would be somewhere else or that everybody was just quite lucky that he showed up at all.

Matt was sixteen, looked eighteen and acted twelve. Or thirty-two.

He came to England when he was five and lived a miserable life in Peckham pretty much ever since. The neighbourhood was a failed area in south-east London, plagued with crime, unemployment, welfare dependency, poverty pimps and degenerated broken single mothers like his own.

Gertrude Jeevas was not one to blame. Abandoned by her first husband soon after the infamous fall of the Berlin Wall, which led to his silent scurry to the west on an icy February night - that coincided with the night she told him she was expecting - she found on Conall Watson the best way out of the imbroglio she found herself in - and quite certainly the only possibility to assure a relatively decent future to her young child.

And it worked out just fine for about a year or so.

The two of them exchanged a room in a shared condo with other three families in east Berlin for a cozy flat in the west end of London. Besides, Conall was a fine man, treated them well enough - and Mail did not dislike him for all that matters.

On January 1995, Mail became Matt, because Conall thought his original name was going to put him through too much discomfort when school started on September. He did not complain.

Matt was happy. His mother was happy. Everything was going smoothly enough as they had at least three meals per day, a twenty-four inches colour tv and a functioning heating system.

On the christmas of ninety-five, Conall gave little Matt a Sega Saturn - the finest piece of gaming money could buy - which quickly made him forget about the secondhand gameboy he got earlier that year for his birthday.

Margaret Watson was not pleased, however, when she discovered his husband was living a double life, nurturing a family with some lousy immigrant from eastern Europe - and saved no time to announce she would take up to his last penny in child support had he not figured out a way to get rid of the scum and put end that pathetic joke.

Conall was not one to blame either when he never came home to Gertrude after a supposed business trip to the north on an ordinary weekend. He was even benevolent enough to mail her a 300 pounds check and pay off the rent for the next month.

But that money eventually rant out and the bills did not start arriving at a slower pace and, as much as Matt did not fully understand what was going on back then, he had no doubts things were about to get complicated.

And they did, as the only job his mother could find was an unregistered part-time occupation in a textile factory near Bermondsey. They went east again and moved to a one bedroom dorm-like apartment in Perkham because - well, that's what they could afford.

If you consider all the variations, Matt turned out pretty fine. Of course, he had pickpocket here and there; but he was engaged in high school and did surprisingly well, specially in comparison with his low attendance rate. He was not part of a gang. He did not do drugs. The heavy ones, that is. He was remarkably good with technology - so good that when he was 14, he managed to hack the financial system of city hall through the public library computer so they would no longer have to worry about the ludicrous electricity bills that wouldn't stop coming; and so he went on with gas bills and water bills. He even managed to get him and his mother into welfare state.

Those things probably weighted against him when he found himself sitting in a Court room trying to convince the judge that he was ready to be emancipated. His public defender did not stand chance against the system and the odds were he would be sentenced to two long years locked in an institution for young offenders for fraud.

As bad as it was outside, it was surely still better than inside. Math was never his forte, but some freedom seemed better that no freedom at all.

Why did he found himself in a court room at the age of sixteen?

A while after they moved to Perkham his mother got involved with people she should have not. And when the police broke in into her new lover's apartment she happened to be there and things just went down. He went to jail for drugs possession, illegally carrying a G18 and three accusations of intentional homicide.

She went along because she was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Maybe she went to jail, maybe she got deported - Matt didn't care.

Once again, it was not her fault, but this time Matt could not help it but blame her. Because he had told her to stop seeing that man months ago. And he also told her to cut off the cocain countless times. _But she wouldn't listen._

The hammer hit the wooden table and the judge declared the obvious.

Motion denied.

 _1 vs. 0 to the system._

Once the session was dismissed, the silver haired man sitting across the room stood up and walked towards him with a mild expression and introduced himself. "Nice to meet you, Matt. I'm Roger Ruvie, the headmaster of Wammy's House. I am sure you are going to fit in our institution just fine." Matt did not utter a word, but responded to the hand shake the older man offered. "We are ready to leave to Winchester whenever you are." The man completed without ceremony, letting go of the boy's hand that remained floating in the air.

While the old man retrieved to the other end of the room, Matt headed to the way out, hands reaching the left pocket of his jeans for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. An officer was quick to follow.

"Chill. Not running away." Matt muttered to the 7 feet man standing in front of him while lighting up the cigarette hanging from his mouth. "Mind giving me some last minutes of privacy?" The officer took a few steps back without loosing the sight of the boy.

Matt inhaled lightly through the cigarette. He hadn't smoked in a fairly long time. He was even starting to believe he had dropped the smoking for good, even though he carried a pack with him _just in case_. Rookie mistake.

The hardest part was to get over the psychological sense of breathing something that was not air - a little like breathing underwater. The nicotine rush was like a small high, a light-headed pleasant hazy feeling. Unfortunately for Matt, it didn't last as long as it should.

His mouth got dry and tasted like a bunch of household chemicals. The smell of it started sticking to his hair and clothes. He was thirsty. Or maybe he wanted to brush his teeth.

"Hey," he called for the officer staring at him from a safe distance "Mr. Officer, whatever your name is -" he exhaled some warm grey smoke into thin cold air. "Have any idea why they are taking me to Winchester?". The officer grinned.

"From what I heard, you should be thankful they are not throwing you straight on jail. Federal fraud?" He completed letting out a small but sarcastic laugh.

"You are probably right." Matt replied coolly.

The brief silence was interrupted by Sally Nash, the social worker, who asked in a very pitchy tone. "Matt, dear, do you think you are ready to go pack your belongings?" She then lowered her head and caught a glimpse of the small roll of paper in his mouth. "I don't believe you should be smoking."

"I believe you originally graduated at Law in Brunel University so I don't think you should be serving as a social worker for 18.000,00 pounds a year either, but here we are." Matt talked back, quickly allowing more smoke to enter his lungs shortly afterwards. Sally stared blankly at him trying to hide the feeling of disbelief that was haunting her soul at that moment. "I am sorry. I did not mean that in an offensive manner, you know, it is just... Something I heard." _Or read. From your work file. Which I found two days ago while hacking into city hall system. Again._

"I don't want to take anything. I am good to go." He continued as she remained uncomfortably silent. In all honesty, he didn't mean to offend her. He just wanted to make her uncomfortable enough to forget about the cigarettes. He was starting to realise that this was the effect he caused on people when he knew way more than he should.

"Great!" She recovered the very pitchy tone. "Should we get you going then?" Matt nodded slowly, pressing the cigarette butt against the wall he was leaning on and tossing it off on the floor.

"Mind if I ask you something first?" the lady smiled back and Matt took it as a yes. "Why? Why Winchester? Going to lock me away?"

"Do you think we should lock you away?" She snapped.

"Dunno."

She turned to him and placed both hands on his shoulders. "Try giving yourself a chance, yes?"

Matt had a feeling that what she was really trying to say was _"you better take this opportunity because you are not getting another one"._

He shrugged.

They completed their walk side by side to the parking lot where the grey man talked to the judge. Another short man with tired features accompanied their conversation, although he did not say a word. Once he looked at Matt, he let out a condescending smile. Sally Nash quickly flashed towards their direction and Matt decided to just let _the grown ups talk,_ heading for the guard wall where two black cars - to be more precise, two CL 63 AMG from Mercedes-Benz - were parked diagonally.

Matt fancied cars. The CL 63 was one of rarest Mercedes ever made up to that moment - they were produced only in November 2001 and just 26 examples were ever built for sale. Once he passed through one of them he unwittingly stopped in front of the driver's window and stared at his own reflection. It was only then that the window came down and a half-bald middle aged man greeted him with a grin.

"Hello, sir. Would you like to wait inside the car?" He asked Matt, who quickly walked into a circle looking into every direction like a dog after it's tail to make sure he wasn't anyone standing beside him. There wasn't.

"Sir?" The driver insisted.

"Huh?" Matt replied. "A-are you talking to me?"

"Why, yes. Aren't you heading to Winchester with Mr. Ruvie?" He inquired.

"I guess." Matt said suspiciously. The man laughed shyly as he opened the driver's door causing Matt to take a few steps backwards. He then proceeded to open the back seat door, leading the boy inside.

Matt sat quite uncomfortably against the leather, although it was most certainly not because of the vehicle. Silence dominated the environment and he decided to end it.

"What is your name?" He asked.

"Andrew Oliver, Sir." The driver replied.

Silence again.

"Aren't you gonna ask me my name?" Matt said bitterly.

"Pardon me, Sir, what is your name?" The man complied.

"Matt."

"Nice to meet you, Sir."

"Don't call me _'sir'_."

"How you'd rather be called, sir?"

"Just Matt."

"Absolutely, Mr. Matt."

"Drop the titles." The driver nodded.

"Is there anything else I can do for you before we leave?" Andrew asked.

"Can you turn on the radio?"

Matt leaned his head against the car door and closed his eyes as some bad jazz music filled it gently enough allowing him to fall asleep. Whenever he was heading to, it was no ordinary place.

 _(Mellow_ )

Mello was the owner of a judgmental electric blue gaze. He had thin lips, a straight nose with a pointed tip and slightly prominent cheekbones. He fancied wearing black pants with sleazy tops that that did very little to divert the attention from his almost feminine silhouette. He had a quirky, yet cool in-between length ash blond hair that ended an inch or so from his narrow shoulders.

In all fairness, he was but an odd combination of features that turned out to work well together.

He was also a prodigy.

With no room for doubt, Mello was the beholder of extraordinary intelligence. In other words, he was good at everything. He spoke seven languages fluently, could solve pretty much every kind of equation within a blink of eye; he mastered English, Russian, German, Spanish and Portuguese literature by the time he was twelve and had taken a special interest in psychology lately.

But he did not care about any of that because, in spite of everything he accomplished and all the effort he put into his studies, he was sentenced to a lifetime internal struggle as runner-up in the line of succession for being the next L.

For he lived in an orphanage full of geniuses and all he ever knew was that he had to dedicate his life to being the world's greatest detective once L was ready to pass the spot.

As simple as that.

Things were not going according to his plans, however, when he turned seventeen and started to realise that he had a year to cave his way to the top of the rank otherwise he would be thrown away to the real world, destined to a life of cleaning tables and emptying trash cans in a low-income pub somewhere in underground London because, naturally, that was the only job suited for a failure.

The situation only got worst when he got called into the headmaster's office in the middle of the winter break of 2006 for apparently no reason.

 _Apparently._

( _Last night_ )

"I didn't do anything - whenever happened this time, I swear it wasn't me." Mello said as he opened the door that led to Roger's office. He entered the room covered by wooden furniture and stood still in front of the now closed door. "Really."

"Mello" Roger greeted calmly. "Please, have a seat."

"Why? I already told you I'm innocent." Mello risked a step forward. "If this is about the incident with the football balls, you caught the wrong bloke."

"Kevin is already being punished for that." The grey man declared. "Will you please take a seat?"

"I would rather stand, thank you." Mello snapped in mockery tone.

" _Mello"_ Roger said taking his sit behind the large wooden desk that occupied the centre of the room. "Do you know what this is?" He said as he placed a brownish envelope on the top of the table and pushing it towards the direction of the boy.

Mello took another step closer to examine the paper object. It was a a large piece of brown paper folded in the middle like an archive file, filled with a few pages of a thinner white pages.

"Why are you handing me my file?"

"I want you to read what it says."

Mello took it on his arms and started to peruse the document. He found a picture of when he first arrived at the house, probably still a five or six year old; his scores over the past twelve years - which the sight caused him to firmly hold his breath and count to five as he remembered the times he was number one in the house rank; next thing was a psychologic evaluation he quickly passed through and, at last, he found a thick sheaf of papers labeled " _punishment record_ ". He rushed right to its last page, where he spotted some kind of scoreboard at the bottom of the page that read:

Detentions: 55

Internal Exclusion Suspensions: 7

Out of School Suspensions: 2

"Have you got the chance to take a look at your punishment record yet?" The old man inquired.

"So?"

"You served fifty-five detentions."

"It's not that bad of a rate if you consider I have been here for over a decade." He talked back.

"I don't believe you are aware of the consequences of your acts, Mello." Roger adjusted his glasses and leaned forward, crossing his hands on the table.

"Enlighten me."

"According to the Whammy's House Code of Conduct-" Roger begun "-once you reach the mark of sixty detentions-" he tried to disguise as chocked on his own words "-you will be requested to leave this institution."

Mello tossed the file back on the table and allowed his body to fall into one of the chairs across from the old man.

His face was glazed for a split-second and then he frowned as his lips pursed together. His hands closed into fists as he crouched forward, daring the old man to repeat once more the words he had just pronounced.

"Have it ever crossed this nutter little mind of yours" Mello raged "that you should have told me that on one of those fifty-five visits I have paid to your shitty mold smelling office in the past twelve years?"

"Mello, will you pleas-"

"No, _seriously_ , have you ever even _considered_ that?! Because, honestly, you have kept me in here for the past twelve fucking years training my brains to believe that all I could ever want was to become the shitty successor of this stupid genius household and when the clock hit the forty-fifth minute of the second half of the match you decide to kick me out of the field? This is not fucking fair!"

"I think your overuse of the word fuck is fascinating but I would rather have you calm down for a second." Roger blurted seeking for a cup of tea on the counter sitting by the window.

"I will not calm down because you have just condemned me to a lifetime of-"

"- _cleaning tables and emptying trash cans in a low-income pub somewhere in underground London._ " Roger completed as he poured some boiling water into a small white teacup. "Yes, I have heard your speech before. This is nothing of the sort. First of all, I am not kicking you out." He placed a dark teabag on the cup and headed back to his chair.

"I am telling you this because I truly believe you have what it takes to succeed L-" he took a sip of his tea "-otherwise I'd just lead you to the _nearest low-income pub_."

"Yeah, right."

"You are no longer a child, Mello. It is about time you start behaving your age. Maybe this is the incentive you need to place first on next month's rank. You are dismissed." Roger declared starting to analyse a pile of paperwork that sat on his desk.

"Maybe I should just get the fuck out of here already." Mello hissed as he led himself to the hallway. He felt a tad dizzy but started to march as firmly as he could to his room. He barked at few younger kids that were passing through the corridor and they quickly disappeared into the staircase.

One year to go, he thought to himself.

One person to surpass.

 _Only five strikes left._

This was going to be a long, long year.

 _(Back to Matt)_

Matt never had dreams. No matter how much he slept or how hard he tried, he could not dream. Every time he closed his eyes he just drowned into endless darkness until something came to interrupt his rest. It was no different this time. The car parked in front of an old mansion-like house and the driver was quick in leaving his spot to open up the left back door so Matt could make his way to his new _home_.

The kid almost felt to the floor as Andrew pushed the door he was leaning on forward, causing him to wake up in distress.

"Pardon me, Sir." He stated. "Matt." Andrew corrected himself. "Did you have a pleasant trip to Winchester?"

"I guess." Matt declared, reaching for his right pocket after standing up. He felt slightly more relaxed when he felt his pack of cigarettes and gameboy console through his jeans. "So, this is it?" He asked.

"Please accompany me." Andrew nodded and started leading the way to the entrance door. After opening up, he made a sign with his hand inviting the boy inside and, before Matt could process, he had already left the hall, leaving him all alone in an old fashioned building he had never seen before.

The place looked far more impressive from the outside than from the inside. Still, he couldn't help but to walk around to catch a better glimpse of every detail of the room.

"Watch your way." Hissed a kid that bumped into him to make his way to the staircase. He was not really sure wether it was a boy or a girl so he attempted to launch an apology just in case, though he doubt she - or he - would listen.

"Sorry!"

"Matt?" Called a familiar voice from behind. The man from the court room greeted hanging his overcoat on the hatstand near the entrance. "Did you make a safe journey?" Matt just nodded. "Perfect. Would you mind following me to my office?" The boy did not respond, but started to follow the man into an old office room at the left end of the hall. "Have a seat."

"I would rather stand, thank you, Sir."

The headmaster sighed.

"Please. This will not be a short conversation."

Matt chocked on his breath. He approached the desk and took a seat, feeling very uncomfortable as the old wooden furniture seemed to swallow his soul.

"Do you have any idea why you are here?"

"Because I committed a federal offense?" He guessed.

The old man nodded negatively. "We believe you are special." Roger stated. "That is why we were willing to give you a chance here at Wammy's House, rather than letting the government take you to an institution for young offenders. I am sure you are wondering why, am I correct?"

The boy assented.

"You have skills most people do not. I am sure you have realised by now."

"Huh?" Matt grinned. "Sorry to disappoint you, Sir, but I am not an X-man."

"Lovely sense of humour." Matt shrugged. Bad timing.

"I don't see where you are trying to go."

"You are a prodigy."

"Am not." He gritted quickly.

"I beg to disagree with you." Roger cooed. "But why don't we let the test decide that?"

" _I don't believe in tests_."

"Do you believe in the penitentiary system?" The old man quizzed as he stared at Matt from above his lenses. Matt froze for a second but was able to relax when the man let out a pitiful smile.

"You have two and a half hours to complete the quiz." Roger proclaimed putting a sheaf of paper and a couple of black pens on top of the desk. "There is water and tea on the counter by the window in case you need it."

Roger left the room after assuring he would be back when the time was up.

Matt hesitated for a couple of minutes but gave in eventually and started to adventure himself into the pages.

 _(Two and a half hours later)_

Roger did not seem concerned.

Matt looked like he was about to collapse.

"Excellent." Roger accused. The redhead felt confused.

"Does it mean I passed?"

"It means you have enough potential to stay."

Matt was not sure he was happy with the answer.

"You must be hungry." The grey man decided. "Before allowing you to go to lunch, I would like to adjust a few final details. It shouldn't take long." He told the boy that remained quiet. "For security reasons, you will have to go under an alias as long you remain in this institution. Your real name will be kept confidential. Are you following me?" Matt nodded positively. "Do you have a name you would like to use in mind?"

"I will just stick with Matt."

"I believe you are missing the point. I have just stressed it cannot be your real name."

"Matt is not my real name."

"What is your real name?"

"Didn't you just tell me it should remain a secret?"

"That is not how it works." Roger threatened.

"Mail. Mail Jeevas."

"Very well, then. I will have one of our students show you the way to the dining hall." Roger declared as he wrote a couple of words into a piece of paper laying on his desk. "Did you leave your belongings in the car?"

"I didn't bring anything."

"Then it is settled. Your dormitory is located in the second floor. Room 127." He declared as he reached for the corridor, in an attempt to get the attention of one of the kids passing by.

"Linda" he called "this is Matt. Would you mind showing him the way to the dining hall?"

The girl agreed without hesitation and they started their walk towards the other end of the room.

 _(Linda)_

"So," she squeaked "how did you get here?"

"By car." Matt muttered.

"Brilliant."

"Linda, right?" She nodded. "Is everyone around a... You know, rocket scientist?"

"You could say so."

"Shit." Matt whispered. This was certainly more than he could take for that day. He wasn't even feeling like eating right now. In fact, he was starting to believe he had an upset stomach after all the food he had eaten.

"Listen, I'm not feeling very well-"

"Would you like me to accompany you to the infirmary?" She interrupted him.

"No. I just... I would appreciate if you could show me to my room, though."

"Sure thing. The boys dorms are this way." Linda led Matt to the staircase he was originally standing in front of when he got bumped into by the blond kid earlier that morning and they both climbed their way to the first floor. "Do you know what number it is?"

"127."

"Oh. My. God."

"What?" Matt asked.

"N-nothing. It's the room at the end of the corridor. I should get going, you know, girls are not allowed in here." She lied. "N-nice to meet you!"

Matt watched as the girl vanished into the ground floor and proceeded to the room at the end of the aisle. He felt somehow nervous and the fact that he could not explain why got to his nerves. It was just a stupid room he would probably share with another kid or two - there couldn't be many geniuses hanging around this place to the point they would have overpopulated dormitories - if he was lucky enough, he thought to himself, he could even get a whole room to himself.

He sought for the doorknob and caved his way in, unintentionally forgetting to knock.

"What the fuck?" He was welcomed by a roar coming from the bathroom. "Have you not learned to knock?" The blond boy snapped as he finished putting his top on. "Who the hell are you?"

"I am Matt."

"I don't care. Get out."

"But you just asked."

"And now I'm telling you to get out."

"I can't. This is my room."

"Listen up, kiddo" Mello spat "you are new around here and someone probably pranked you into coming into my room and I will let this one pass, alright?"

"No, you don't understand. Roger told me this is _my room_ too." Matt marched into the room unaware of the risk he was putting himself into. He sat into one of the two beds that furnished the room.

"Get the fuck out of my bed!"

"Geez, calm down, I'll just take the other one."

"You are not taking any of them! Why haven't you left yet?"

"I told you, this is my room. Or at least it is supposed to be."

"Bullshit." Mello cried. "Who told you to do this? Drake? Luke?" Mello reached for the still opened door and yelled "WHOEVER DID THIS, IT IS NOT FUCKING FUNNY."

"I am telling you the truth. Roger sent me here. Do you want to go find him so we can sort this out and-"

"Of course I don't want to go find Roger, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Hey, easy-" Matt tried to remain calm. "I promise you I will go after him later and get everything solved, but - for now - do you mind if I take a nap in this bed? You won't even notice I am here."

"Of course I fucking mind!" _And how do you expect me to not notice this distracting piece of shit you call hair?_

This could not be truth, Mello thought to himself. It was a whole new level of evil, even for Roger. It was bad enough to be under pressure to make it to the top of the rank by the end of the term without reaching the five strikes mark and getting kicked out of the house but having to share a room with _him_?

This had to be a joke, had to be a joke, _had to be a a really bad joke,_ Mello debated inside his own mind.

He bursted out of his room to go seek an explanation for this.

Matt, on the other hand, just leaned back on the spare bed and closed his eyes with a sigh.

This year was going to be even longer than Mello originally anticipated.


	2. Deal

A/N: Glad to see there are still people around since the last time I shared something in this place. In 2010. Your reviews are the Matt to my Mello. Without the roommate drama part.

I would like to dedicate this chapter to my family law Professor because, had his class been decent enough to get my attention, I wouldn't have written any of this. Hope you like it!

 _(Coming to terms)_

"This is bullshit." Mello raged as he furiously opened the door that led to the headmaster's office. "You cannot do this to me. You cannot tell me I have a year to flash to the top of the rank without getting myself into any trouble and then throw me inside a 20 feet deep pool _full of it_." He continued. "Do you tell Near he is not allowed to build a house of cards in the library and then lock him inside the room with a couple of playing decks? _No._ That is a low fucking blow _even_ for you." Mello accused.

"Are you finished?" Roger took a sup of his earl grey tea. "I believe I should warn you that the next time you burst into my office like this you will be hitting the 56th mark."

"I am not finished because I will not sit by and watch as you attempt to sabotage my last chance of being L's successor!" Mello exclaimed loudly enough to make a group of kids passing in the hallway freeze in front of the door that laid opened, but he was quick to gaze back with a deathly stare that immediately recovered their ability to move.

"I have been here for twelve years. I have had a single room for the last twelve fucking years. And then-" he gasped "-all of a sudden, you come up with the brilliant idea of giving me a _roommate_?"

"I would like to ask you if you have ever noticed that you are the only kid in this entire institution privileged with a single room?"

Mello tried not to shrug as Roger echoed the truth.

"And I would also like to ask you if you honestly believe I would put that young boy into life hazard for sharing a dormitory with you if I had any other choice?" Roger inquired.

"For all I know I could be one sleeping with a sexual offender or some shit." Mello snapped.

"I assure you Matt is nothing of the sort."

"Do you expect me to believe you?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Instead of making a fuss about this-" Roger said calmly "-why don't you take this an opportunity to establish a healthy relationship with a human being?"

"Relationships are distractions. _I don't need distractions_." Mello hissed.

"Friendships are harmless."

" _Friendship is merely a glorified expression. In reality it is nothing but a reciprocal outpouring of slops._ " Mello quoted plainly.

Roger eventually figured the only way to handle the situation was to make it interesting enough for Mello. "Let us make a deal about this-" he started to propose "-if you get by the end of the month without a detention, I will grant you a wish. And no - you cannot wish Near out of this place whatsoever." Roger completed.

"Damn."

"But you can use it on anything else that you might desire that does not require a violation of basic human rights." He added.

"That is quite restricting." The boy asserted. Roger gave him a judgemental look.

"Deal." Mello anticipated himself.

"If, however," Roger resumed "by the end of the month Matt happens to want - god knows why - to keep being roommates with you, your wish cannot be used to reclaim your room."

"I withdraw my acceptance to the deal." Mello declared firmly.

"The terms are not negotiable." Roger adjusted his glasses with a single finger.

"These are shitty terms."

"Are you implying you are actually concerned someone might end up enjoying your regular company?" The headmaster defied him in a quite childish manner.

"You are a little shit for brains, aren't you?"

" _Mello._ " He threatened.

"Yeah, whatever." Mello assented. "It is not like I have anything to lose."

"Do we have an agreement?"

"If you want to call it that way." Mello replied turning his back on Roger and heading back to _his_ dorm.

 _(Coming to terms, part 2)_

"Get up!" Mello barked, entering his old dorm after spending the afternoon in the library trying to figure it out what he would handle the roommate situation only to find the redhead laying worry-less in the extra bed on the left of the narrow room. Matt was so embedded in his rest that he didn't bother waking up with the call, which caused Mello to purposely drop the thick pair of books of design and analysis of algorithms to the floor. This time Matt widened his eyes. "I said get up!"

"What the f-" he muffled as he concentrated his forces into bringing his body to a sitting position.

"Listen up" Mello declared, sitting on the edge of his bed, pushing both of his hands against the mattress side by side to his legs "here's how this is gonna go:" he involuntarily tightened his eyes "I am going to make your life miserable." Two or three seconds echoed through the room, amplifying the effects of his words. "And by the end of the month, you are going to tell that stupid old man you no longer want to share a room with me and everything is going to go back to the way it was before you unannouncedly bursted into my life."

It took Matt a quarter of a minute of reaction time to crack up in genuine laughter. "You-" the redhead begun holding back a giggle "-are going to make my life miserable?" He continued to enjoy himself. "You and all of yours 110 lbs?"

"Yes." Mello said unamused. "All of my 110 lbs right into your jaw if you don't shut the fuck up."

"Now, you listen up." Matt defied him. "I don't know what kinda of mental institution is this place-" he leaned towards Mello without leaving his bed "-and I most certainly don't know what's going on inside your genius little mind, but I'm not scared of you." He stated. "Not one tad bit."

"You think you have got this all sorted out, don't you?" Mello snapped with a smirk. "You have only been here for six hours or so." He raised an eyebrow and then continued. "The first thing you should learn about this place, is to pick your battles."

"Uh - I'm so scared." Matt declared bluntly standing up from his new bed to head to the bathroom. "What you are gonna do?" He rushed himself to mock the blond but regretted soon enough as he remembered the conversation he had with the social worker after the court session earlier that morning. He was going to give it a chance. _He was going to give himself a chance._ Because he didn't want to go to jail, he reminded _._ He took a deep loud breath. "Mello, right?" He inquired. Mello did not reply. "I don't know what I have done to you but, whatever it is, I apologise." Matt finished politely. "Oh, and one more thing: I never asked to be here in he first place, much less to share a room with you-" _whoever you might be_ "-so all this shitty situation that is making you unhappy about breathing is not my fault."

"I didn't say it was your fault" Mello hissed. " _I said I was blaming you._ "

"You've known me for less than six hours and you are blaming me for your lifetime misery?" Matt argued.

" _And_ for everything that might happen in discordance with my life plans from now own." Mello talked back. " _Naturally_."

"You are a weird bloke."

"Why are you making things more complicated to yourself?" Mello rolled his eyes.

"Fine." Matt said curtly. "Give me one good reason to tell Roger I don't want to share a room with you. _The fact that you are a prick doesn't count._ " He mocked. Not sure if regretting it this time.

"Are you always this hilarious?"

"Can't think of anything?"

"I'm allergic to redheads."

Matt grinned. "Bullshit."

Mello tightened his fists. "Freckles give me panic attacks."

Matt giggled.

"I'm gay and I'll probably try to catch a glimpse of your dick while you shower." Mello proclaimed.

"Do you want me to make it easier for you?" He asked seriously.

"The sincerity of your words makes me wonder if you realise the position of the House regarding any kind of mansex is abstinence." Mello snapped.

" _That's too bad_. I was positive we would have fantastic casual and angry shower sex one of these days." Matt plained sarcastically

"You know what-" Mello remarked "-have it your way." He grinned. "By the end of the month, you'll be begging to be roommates with someone else."

"And if I am not?"

"Then you'll most likely have lost your ability to breathe and we will not have to worry about any of this."

Matt smiled - no - smirked. "Deal."

 _(January 4th)_

Next morning Matt woke up to the sound of a long-wailing scream that pierced the stillness of his mind and made his body startle to an upright position, throwing the blanket on the floor and twitching eyes that were struggling to get used to the brightness of the room. When he finally managed to do so, it was only to find a mischievous Mello standing by door sill.

"Morning, sunshine."

"What-" _fucking_ "-time is it?" was Matt's greeting.

"I would guess it is around five a.m." Mello replied in a cool tone that barely overcame the high pitched squeal that dominated the room.

"The fuck?" Matt snapped. "Any special reason to set the alarm clock to stupid o'clock?"

"Not really."

" _Fantastic._ " His tone was dipping in sarcasm. "Mind turning that shit off?" Matt felt back down to the mattress, stretching his arms to reach the blanket laying on the floor and quickly hiding his whole body with it.

"Now, don't be bitter with me." Mello stated. "Why don't you try turning it off yourself?"

Matt was too sleepy to argue, so he let one of his hands out of the blanket cave he was under and reached for the place an alarm clock would most likely be - or rather should be - only to touch a cold piece of hardwood. He tried again two or three times until he decided to uncover his head to find a small wooden bedside table with absolutely nothing on top of it. "Where is it?"

"Huh?" Mello pretended not to hear him.

"Where did you put it-" Matt asked putting his pillow over his face and mumbling a couple of swear words as his eyes met the lights coming from the ceiling.

"If I told you that" Mello smirked "it would be no fun."

The siren continued flooding the dormitory.

"Prat." Matt muttered.

"Remember when I told you I was going to make your life miserable?" Mello inquired, but Matt gave no response as he got up from his warm retreat with a groggy face, messed up hair, left cheek covered in dried drool and gave the blond a almost deathly stare - or maybe it was but a regular gaze from a barely awake sixteen year-old boy - that either way had no effects on Mello. " _This is me being nice._ Think of it as me trying to help you be on time for your first day of _genius school_." Mello informed plainly and turned his back to him, leaving the room.

 _(Breakfast nuisance, part 2)_

Mello was dressed in his usual black attire with his hair carelessly pulled behind his ears as he went down to get some breakfast before all the other kids were up and ready to socialise.

As he entered the dining hall, he found the whole place to himself, with the exception of a younger child sitting by the window across the room that, in all fairness, didn't bother him at all.

He grabbed his usual morning meal composed of a lattè souped with a spoonful of chocolate powder, boiled eggs and soldiers then chose a random seat in the right end of the hall, where he proceeded to eat his food and read a chapter of design and analysis of algorithms to prepare for his first period.

The day was beginning undisturbedly until a more than familiar voice came to greet Mello from the depths of albino-land taking him off his inner-peace state of mind.

"Good Morning, Mello." The white child complimented, holding his breakfast tray while standing in the middle of the corridor formed by the disposition of the tables. Mello looked at the boy just so he could proceed to ignore him

"I am sorry I was not here a couple of weeks ago to wish you a happy birthday." He continued in a flat tone, wither ignoring the fact he was being ignored or not caring about it.

"It was being a happier birthday before you came back." Mello snapped, without taking his eyes from his book.

Near acted as if he didn't hear him."Nasa camping was fun. You should have accepted the invitation."

"I lost interest after I discovered they wouldn't allow me to put you inside the next rocket to anywhere farther than two hundred forty thousand miles from earth." Mello explained, allowing his eyes to meet Near's in a deadly gaze.

"Where you planning to get rid of me sending me to the moon?" He inquired innocently.

"Of course not-" Mello replied "-I was thinking pluto."

"You have a fascinating mind." Near declared with mild interest.

"You don't. Get out." He said curtly.

"I was thinking we could try getting along as this was your last year around, but I was mistaken." He remarked in a tone that almost outlined disappointment.

"Pretty dumb idea for rank's number one." Mello hissed. "Don't you have a house of cards to play with?"

Near ignored. "What are your plans for this term?" He asked in a way Mello absolutely loathed, a way that made it appear he knew everything - the sixty detention rule, the succession situation and the roommate drama - except it couldn't be because Near had spent most of winter break locked away in America for Nasa camp or in his room doing god only knows why that did not involve social interaction.

"Beat you. Drown you in a pool filled with the tears of your despair. Cause you agonising pain. The options are infinite."

"Good luck." Near wished him, without moving a finger from where he was originally standing.

"If you are waiting for me to wish you the same" Mello said as he picked up a toast strip with his left hand, turning his face back to the reading " _you are waisting your time._ "

 _(A couple of hours later)_

When the alarm clock - which Matt took forever to find hidden inside a hollow board under his bed - hit eight the redhead went down to the dining room he was shown by Linda the day before.

The room certainly looked different with all the light piercing through the windows and a dozen kids yarning about.

A little perplexed with all the food laying around, Matt didn't debate much over what to get and picked up a pair of toasts with white coffee then headed to an empty table near the entrance.

"Impressive." A girly voice declared form his back. "I see you survived last night without visible bruises" as she walked up across the table, Matt recognised her as the girl from yesterday - Linda, he remembered "guess Mello was probably in a good mood."

"About that guy-" Matt dropped his toast on the plate "-the fuck is wrong with him?"

"In my opinion, he's just obsessed with human misery - that explains why he likes Russian literature and depressing French philosophers so much." Linda sat by the table with a small grin growing on her face. "But everyone has a different guess on the matter." She concluded. "You?"

"It's probably too early for me to place mine in the middle."

Linda rolled her eyes. "Anyway, Roger asked me to fetch you this." Linda declared as she handled him a large yellow envelope. "It's your schedule."

"Did you open it? Is that included in fetching?" Matt took the envelope and placed it by his tray, without bothering to check what was inside.

"I don't usually do things for free." Linda said coolly.

"Do you accept cash or only gossip and hearsay of other people's lives?" Matt snapped as he took a bite of his last toast.

"Are you always this hilarious?" She replied unamused.

"Mello just asked me that last night-" Matt said "-you should go check with him."

"Rude." She stood up and begun her short walk to the door. "I would probably rush if I were you, though." She said as she took a couple steps forward. "Your first class started twenty minutes ago." And left.

"Shit." Matt muttered as he put half a toast inside his mouth and ripped the envelope to reach the paper inside, flashing out of the room heading somewhere he didn't know.


	3. (P)rank

**A/N:** Hey, guys! Thank you very much for the feedback! Sorry for the lack of update last week - I kinda got caught up by college, my job and a fREAKING TRIP TO CARIBE BITCHES $$$$$ I hope you like it, though I personally didn't enjoy this chapter myself? I am sorry? Please don't leave it will get better promise I'll make it up to you

 _(Stupid class)_

Mello was halfway through his first period, slovenly sitting in a desk on the left of the room, middle row, empty seat by his side - _naturally_ \- wondering what he was doing there and why he was taking that stupid algorithms class.

That because, as far as he was concerned, he should be taking Mathematics of Image and Data Analysis right now, but guess what - he remembered - Near took the last spot in that class.

And Roger forced him to choose another math related class to complete his schedule and it was either Design and Analysis of Algorithms or Linear Programming and Combinatorial Optimization, because he had already taken every other math related class available in this institution and his request to retake Theory of Probability and Statistics was instantly denied with no further consideration.

 _Stupid Near._

"Mello" Drake called from the back of the room. He was seated behind Mello, sharing his desk with Luke, a sixteen year old boy with craggy facial features that spent his whole life going up and down in the rank between the 15th and 20th position. Mello was not his biggest fan, but didn't dislike him - probably because he was never a threat - rankwise or otherwise.

Mello didn't hear his call - or pretended not to. "Hey, blondie!" Drake called once again, picking a yellow pencil with his left hand and poking Mello's scruff through his hair with the rubber point.

Mello turned his body to the right, leaning his head back and directing a very hostile look at Drake. "The fuck is this thing you just rubbed on my neck?" He demanded to know in a whispery tone, alternating his attention between the professor, his textbook and the boys sitting at the table behind him. "Easy, _princess_." Drake mocked and Luke hold back a giggle.

"Drake, we are not _that_ friends." Mello declared in a serious tone.

"Pardon me, sir." Drake continued. "I just wanted to know what are the plans."

"Plans?" Mello inquired.

"Yeah. You know, for the new guy." Mello's eyes narrowed.

"I'm taking care of it _personally_." He snapped. _And I am also about to get kicked out of this bloody place so I have to take it fucking easy,_ he wanted to add, but didn't.

"Do you really have to be so self absorbed?" Drake smirked. "Or is it that you fancy your new roommate?"

"Drake-" Mello turned his head back fully this time "-on a scale of 1 to 10, how much do you like breathing through your nose?"

"Huh?"

"Because I am about to punch you in the face so hard chances are you are going to need surgery to get it to function again."

"Mello" the Professor called out "you are not going to punch anyone while in this class. You might as well use the time to pay attention, yes?" Mello nodded apologetically - as apologetically as he could get, of course. As he was turning back to the black-board, the doorknob begun to move and the door slowly opened to reveal a very late Matt, holding pink cheeks as if he had just ran a marathon.

"Yes?" The Professor asked.

"I was-" he stopped to catch his breath "-I didn't have my schedule and then I-" once again "-couldn't find the classroom and-" he ran his finger through his hair to get it out of his face "-I am sorry?" He completed in question tone.

"Oh" the Professor let out the smallest of the grins "I believe you are the new student?"

Drake and Luke proceeded to repeat _new student_ in mockery, a few students laughed in the back of the room while most of the class was finding it difficult to care about the whole situation and Mello just rolled his eyes with a deep sigh. Matt nodded.

"Find a seat." The Professor allowed him. He quickly locked the door and headed for the first empty spot he caught sight in the room - which was, coincidentally enough, by Mello's side.

"Got tired of dossing around and decided to show up?" Mello asked.

"Thanks for telling me I had to be in class by 8 a.m." Matt snapped.

"I am a prodigy, not a fortune-teller." He hissed. "Didn't know your schedule, _genius_."

"Whatever."

"Cared enough to bring a piece of paper and a pen or are you just going to memorise everything?" Mello whispered.

"Shit." Matt said, instinctively touching his pockets. "Let me borrow one of yours."

"What? No way. Get your own."

" _Come on_." He tried to reach the black pen at the end of the desk, but Mello's hand was quicker.

"I said _no_."

"You don't need three of them." Matt whispered. "Let me have that one and a piece of paper for fuck's sake." The professor gave them an angry stare without interrupting his speech about asymptotic analysis.

"Fine. Just shut the fuck up." Mello declared, ripping a page out of his notebook and pushing it in front of Matt, along with a black pen bitten on one end.

"Do you chew on your pen?"

"What?" Mello seemed confused.

"I mean, you chew on your pen. Look." He pointed to the bitten side of the pen with his left hand, holding it with his right one.

"So?" Mello said uninterested.

"I was just pointing it out."

"Just pay attention to the bloody class, arsehole." Matt turned his face to the black-board and professor and begun taking notes.

Or at least trying to. He proceeded to write down the date and the name of the subject on the top of the page and, after that, stared blankly at the guy in the front of the room.

He was not quite sure they had him figured out with that initial test because this class was clearly not something he could handle. Out of three words the professor said, Matt was lucky to understand one of them which was probably a connective.

"Mello-" Matt called "-what did he just say?" Matt asked pointing the pen at the professor. Mello replied first with an unhappy gaze.

" _Finding the median of n elements can be reduced to finding the median of n/5 elements and then finding the median of at most 7/10n elements._ " Mello repeated without difficulty.

"Huh" Matt muttered "ok." He said in embarrassment of asking once again. Mello rolled his eyes and reached for the piece of paper he had given to Matt a few minutes earlier.

T(n) ≤ T(1/5n) + T (7/10n) +O (n)

Mello wrote it down and turned back to his own notebook. Matt just stood there, staring at the equation written on the mostly blank page, trying to process the words that came out like a tsunami from the Professor's mouth - because he was surely feeling like he was drowning in this class.

"Pick a constant c such that T(n) ≤ T(1/5n) + T (7/10n) + cn for all sufficiently large n. Actually - for simplicity - let's assume the relation holds for all n. Then we can apply the Select to each of the terms T (1/5n) and T (7/10n)." The Professsor explained, picking up a white chalk to write the final result on the board.

 _"For simplicity."_ Matt muttered _. Imagine if he wasn't trying to make it simple. Jesus Fucking Christ._

"So, considering this, could we say that select method achieves the best possible asymptotic running time for an algorithm that solves the median finding problem?" The man inquired. "Matt?"

"Huh?!" Matt jumped a little on his seat, dropping Mello's pen on the floor as he faced filled with the purest despair. "Ah, yes, let me just-" he felt tingly and dizzy. It felt like ice was running through his veins. He wanted to run away from his own body in that moment but all his movements allowed him to do was to drop his landed pen on the floor and knead the paper sheet that laid on his desk. He was at a total loss of words for he didn't know the right answer - he didn't even have a guess - he had literally nothing to say. Mello let out an audible sigh.

"Mello? Do you have something to say?" The Professor turned the question to him.

"It means that any correct algorithm which solves the median finding problem must be Ω(n), since such an algorithm must at least look at each of the n entries of A."

"That is correct." The man stated as Matt came back to breathing.

"Thank you." He whispered.

"For not being a dumb prat?" Mello snapped.

The bell finally rang. Matt let his body melt in his seat as the Professor dismissed the class and couldn't help but wonder what he was doing in this place.

Mello, on his turn, didn't wait for Matt's reply and a little after half the class had already left the room, he grabbed his backpack and started heading to the door.

Before he reached the exit, however, he turned back to Matt. "Hey, noobie" he called in a cold tone "better step up your game." He told the redhead, giving him a look that - for the first time - didn't say _I want to kill you_ or something of the kind. Instead, it said exactly what he meant by his words - which left Matt close to terrified.

 _(Blowing things up)_

"Listen up" Drake said placing his books on the bench and sitting by the table where Mello was eating his lunch in the dining hall "I just had the best idea ever." Luke followed him, as always, also finding himself a seat.

"Not interested." Mello replied.

"It's going to be the prank of the year." Drake ignored Mello's reply and continued.

"I said I don't want to hear you."

"Can I join you?" Said an intruding Linda, embracing Drake from the back.

"No." Mello snapped. Linda pretended not to hear.

"Just wait until you hear his idea!" Luke exclaimed.

"Just get the fuck out" Mello hissed as he led another spoonful of pasta into his mouth. "All of you."

"Will you at least give my idea a chance?" Drake asked. Mello rolled his eyes in a gesture Drake understood as an acceptance. "We could fill his clothes with-"

"Done that." Mello interrupted him.

"We could also-"

"Done that too." Mello snapped.

"You didn't even listen to the whole thing. How could you possibly know you have already done that?" Drake inquired in a very disappointed tone.

"Drake, I am afraid that after twelve years of pranking people around in this place, I have done everything one can do." Mello lied, still focused on his food.

"Bullshit." Drake accused him, pondering what else he could propose to the boy. "Have you noticed he carries a pack of cigarettes in his pocket? We could-"

"We are not blowing things up." Mello interrupted him. Drake frowned as Luke took over.

"He was also carrying a game console this morning." He noticed. "I suppose we could use that too and go for a less explosive idea." Drake and Luke bursted out in a laugh as they hands touched in the air.

"Who are we pranking?" Linda broke her silence.

"No one." Mello quickly answered.

"New guy." Drake and Luke overlapped.

"I like new guy." She said, causing Drake to raise an eyebrow.

"If you are wondering, he's probably free on Thursdays after class for a quick one. He's probably free on Wednesdays too, but you are already busy on Wednesdays, right?" Mello provoked. Linda held a very unhappy Drake by the shoulders, forcing him to stay in his seat.

"Anyway" Luke said, trying to switch the mood "Let's go with the game thing."

"I am in." Drake agreed, still not amused.

"Forget it." Mello said curtly. Drake was starting to get cross with Mello's resistance in doing what he did best.

"What's it with you these days?" He asked. "It's like you're a different person."

"Am not."

"You are too." Linda joined.

"Nothing is wrong with me." Mello tried to dodge.

"You have been acting very weird now that I recall." The girl begun. "I haven't even seen you picking on Near lately."

"That's because he was locked way in America all winter."

"He came back a week ago."

"Didn't have the opportunity."

"Liar."

"Tart."

"Hey!" Drake attempted to defend her, but gave up as Mello stared at him.

"Listen" Mello started as he finished his lunch "you come to me with a good idea, and I'll consider it" he pretended "but I'm not joining you in this stupid one." He picked up his tray and got up. "If you want to do it, do it without me."

"Whatever." Drake muttered as Mello left with no further ceremony.

 _(Creep)_

After a full morning of classes, Matt decided to skip his lunch and go look for a relatively private spot outside to smoke a cigarette. He went out to the garden in the back of the House and a couple of minutes later he found himself leaning against a big tree near a tall fence, with a cigarette between his lips and his fingers pressing his gameboy nervously as he tried not to think about how much of misfit he was in this place.

Sure he couldn't understand ninety percent of what the Professors said but that was only the beginning of the stick that constantly poked his brains since the day started - thing was: he just couldn't blend in. So far, the only people who had directed the word to him were Andrew the driver; the headmaster; the algorithims Professor; a very suspicious teenager boy with chin-lenght straight blond hair and a girl that looked awkwardly similar to him - and probably four out of those only talked to him because they needed to - but it still counted, right? Not this time, he felt. Pretty much everyone else looked at him as if he had green skin and that was something he was not comfortable with - not one bit.

And that was something to worry about because Matt always managed to blend in. That is how life had always worked for him. There is something about blending in, he thought, that felt safe; something about never standing out in the crowd. Now, don't get it wrong - being different wasn't a bad thing for him. It was the ridicule that came along with not following the social conduct that was, and that was what he was scared of.

 _The more he tried to push this subject out of his mind, the more it bothered him._ Luckily enough, his thoughts were interrupted by a tiny shadow that emerged from behind the tree without making any noises, causing him to drop his cigarette and gameboy in a pile of humid land as the game over screen came on. "Shit." He muttered as he leaned down to catch it after stepping over his cigarette a couple of times.

"You shouldn't be smoking in here - it is not allowed."

"Scaring people up like that should also be forbidden, you know." Matt talked back.

"I apologise." The boy said. "Have you seen a collectable lego robot sitting around?" He asked.

"Huh, no?" Matt replied in question tone. "I don't believe it grows in the nature."

"Me neither. I do believe someone could have hidden it outside, though." He claimed calmly, seemingly ignoring Matt's sarcasm.

" _Right_."

"Anyway" the bot proceeded in his monotone "it was a pleasure to finally meet you, Matt."

"I haven't introduced myself to you." He snapped, putting his gameboy inside his pocket.

"I am very sorry. Would you like to introduce yourself?" He inquired.

"Not really." Matt pondered. "Would you?"

"I am Near." He said curtly.

Matt just stood there in silence waiting for the smaller boy to add something to his introduction, but then he realised he was just expected to know who he was - but he didn't. "Ok." Matt said.

"We will see each other another time." Near declared. "Goodbye."

"Later." Matt replied shortly after the boy turned away and started making his way back to the house. " _Creepy._ " He muttered under his breath, picking up another cigarette from his pack and resuming his game.

( _Rank_ )

Every last day of each month Roger hang up by the side of his office's door the House rank. Every fifteen days in between the listing, a preliminary raking came out, allowing the students to check on their progress and better administrate their goals. And since it was January 4th, the preliminary ranking would be out in eleven days, which meant Mello had no time to lose and had better study his arse off to improve his scores. Not that scoring an average of 97% was a bad thing - far from that - but it wasn't good enough when the competition constantly scored 99%. That was exactly why he headed straight to the library after his last period to get ahead on his Experimental Psychology studies and only left when Mrs. Thompsom spotted him on her night stroll around the bookshelves and told him it was past curfew.

He was definitely working hard - dedicating to his studies and keeping out of trouble - and although it had only been two days since this whole situation started, it seemed like two months in Mello time.

Before heading to his now shared room, he remembered he had missed dinner, and decided to stop by the kitchen to steal something to eat - preferably something sweet.

He sneaked into the kitchen calmly after verifying there was no one around. He headed to the storeroom, quietly opened the door and, after assuming the smaller room was also empty, he stepped inside, carefully pushing the door near closing. He then proceeded to search for the spot they usually kept the chocolate bars - third shelf near the window, from bottom to the top - without the need of turning on the lights. When he stretched his arms to reach the candy, however, his hands did not found a hard rectangular surface, but rather the soft and almost warm touch of human skin.

"The fuck-" Mello begun to exclaim, but managed to hold it in.

"I am really sorry - oh my god - I never meant to get the chocolate" said a trembling girly voice "this is a misunderstanding!"

Mello stopped for a second. His natural reaction would be to yell the kid out of there, but that was old Mello - the new Mello - also known as _five strikes Mello,_ could not afford to do so.

"You scared the shit out of me." He said approaching the shelf to see the person standing on the other side, who he quickly identified as being some of Linda's friends - a slightly tanned girl with nut-brown hair - he was almost sure was called Hanna. _Anna. Lana._ He was sticking with Anna. He stretched his arm once again and grabbed a chocolate bar. "You can have the other one, Anna." He allowed her. "Night."

The girl remained quiet and still as he left the storeroom and after recovering from the mostly unexpected meeting, picked up a candy bar and headed out with a subtle grin.

 _(Night night)_

Matt walked leisurely out of the bathroom, steam filling the room as he cut the door open. In the exact same moment, Mello opened the dorm room and let himself in without ceremony.

"Hullo." Matt greeted. Mello gave him a stare - not a deadly one - but not a friendly one either. "Any simple greeting would suffice." The redhead added.

"Goodnight." Mello stated as he threw himself onto his bed after putting on his pyjamas pants - shamelessly - in front of Matt. Next thing, he grabbed the chocolate bar he had just stolen and begin to eat it with moderate speed.

Matt opted not to proceed with the conversation but realised, shortly after, he had no other choice. As his cheeks turned deep pink, he summoned all his cheekiness and begun again. "Hey, Mello" he choked a little "Could you, maybe, if you don't mind" his breathing got a bit shallow "lend me a pair of pyjama pants or something?"

"The bloody fuck?" Mello inquired with a very unamused look on his face.

"It is just that" Matt replied nervously "I didn't bring any clothes and stuff." He sought a bit more courage within himself to break the mood. "I could also lay around naked all night. Don't mind."

"I would love to find out if your hair is naturally this ridiculously ginger, but no, thank you." Mello snapped. "Third drawer on the left." Mello instructed him. "Pick up the blue one. I never wear it anyway." Matt did as he was told and headed back to the bathroom to dress up and hang the towel to dry. On the way to his bed, he grabbed the clothes he had previously thrown on the corner of the dorm - and found it a little odd that he couldn't feel his gameboy within the bundle of fabric - but didn't mind much, since he had probably just put it else where before showering. He had no time to think about it since he was exhausted and could only think of getting some sleep.

After all, thanks to his lovely roommate, the day had begun at five a.m. "Thanks."

"Whatever." Mello replied with his mouth full of chocolate as Matt was already tucked in and, never minding the lights on, quickly driving into sleep.


	4. Positive reinforcement

**A/N:** This chapter was supposed to be twice the size it is but then I decided to split it in half because the other part seemed terrible. Still, this is better than nothing, yes? Plus, just checked the visitors graph for this story and thank you I guess because 300 people is a very lot? Reviews are love xxxx

 _(still on January 4th)_

"I am positively in love." Fifteen-year-old Brianna announced, collapsing in the vacant bed in the dorm.

The other bed was being occupied by Linda, who seated comfortably, leaning her back against a couple of pillows with artboard resting on her bent knees and a balancing pencil between her left hand fingers. She looked away from her drawing as the other girl entered the room.

"I have already told you to give up on that." Linda replied curtly.

"That I will not do." Brianna declared as she sat down on the edge of her bed, allowing Linda to finally notice that she was holding a chocolate bar.

"What stupid thing have you done this time?" She asked looking into the contents of Brianna's hands.

"I haven't done anything." True. "He was the one that finally noticed me." Half-true. "And guess what: he knows my name." False.

"Liar." Linda accused.

"Am not!" The other girl yelled.

"You are too!" Linda talked back.

"Will you let me elaborate on what happened or what?" Brianna said firmly and Linda nodded, placing her drawingboard upside-down against her mattress, stretching her legs to a comfortable position to listen to the story. "I went down to the kitchen to get something to eat after I spent the whole evening studying in the library-"

" _Bree_." Linda interrupted her with an ugly gaze.

" _Fine._ " Declared an unhappy Brianna. "I spent the whole evening _watching_ him study in the library and I lost the track of time - when I noticed, it was already 9:55 p.m. and I had lost dinner and was about miss the curfew too." She placed some hair behind her left ear. " I decided to go to the kitchen to try and get something to eat because I was starving. So i go down the stairs to the ground floor-"

"Alright, alright, I know how to get to the kitchen, move on!" Linda asked impatiently.

Brianna rolled her eyes. "Anyway-" she resumed "-I made my way to the kitchen and then proceeded to the storeroom and-" she sighed deeply "-there _he_ was."

"So you followed him down to the storeroom too?"

"Linda, you are ruining the romance!"

"My bad." The blond apologised unwillingly.

"I stretch my arms to reach for the chocolate bars on the shelf-" Brianna let out the largest of the smiles "-and our hands touched!" She crossed her arms against her chest, holding tight to her chocolate bar, and let herself fall onto her bed again.

"You are creepy." Linda noted. "Besides, you haven't eaten chocolate since you were like, thirteen?" She asked in a rather affirmative tone. "You are always on crazy ass diets."

"Shut up!" Brianna protested. "I came to you because I though you were going to be supportive for once."

"Proceed." She instructed. "What happened after that?"

"Our hands touched as we both tried to reach for the chocolate - and I freaked out."

"What?" Linda raised an eyebrow.

"I freaked out because I thought he was going to be mad someone was trying to lift his chocolate!"

" _Alright._ " She muttered.

"But instead of getting mad at me" Brianna continued "he told me to calm down and that I could have a chocolate bar too!" She finished in giggles. "Oh, and he did all that calling me by my name!" She added.

"Bullshit." Said a skeptical Linda.

"Fine, he might have called me Anna. But that is my name. _Partially_. I bet it was intentional."

"That doesn't sound like him _at all._ " Linda concluded.

"What do you know?" Challenged Brianna.

"I know that _he's not into you._ " Linda stated and then proceeded to catch back the artboard she previously placed on her bed.

"We need to work on your positive reinforcement." The other girl said, placing the chocolate bar on the bedside table.

"I am sorry, Bree. I am just being realistic." She began to scratch on her board. "Everyone knows that Mello doesn't really like _anyone_." Linda declared.

"That is so not true." Brianna contested.

"Fine." Linda agreed. "There were rumours he fancied Charlotte last year." She grinned. "But that doesn't really count because every breathing creature fancies Charlotte. Even I fancy her." She finished in a small and almost genuine laugh.

Brianna shrugged. "She might be all that, but I am all that and a bag of crisps."

"A pack of frazzles, that is." Both of them succumbed to laughter - the brunette with less intensity.

"Bree, mind if I eat a piece of the chocolate bar you snooped?" Linda asked half-politely, already trying to reach it with her right hand.

"No way, this is mine!" Brianna snapped, hitting the girl's hand with her own.

"Come on! It is not like you are eating it yourself." Linda mocked.

"I am!"

"Not true!" Each girl grabbed one end of the candy bar as they begun to dwell for it. Linda had a head start but Brianna quickly pulled it away with almost all her strength, breaking to chocolate in several pieces inside the pack and causing Linda to drop her artboard onto the floor and, although she tried to pick it up as fast as she could, Brianna was smaller and thus faster.

"Oh. My. God." Brianna drawled.

"Give it back!" Linda said - no, screamed - in her usual high pitched voice.

"Oh, I sure _will_ give it back" Brianna said with a smirk "but first, you will tell me: _why do you have a doodle of the new guy on your artboard?_ "

 _(Next morning)_

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Repeated Matt out and loud in his head for his first waking minutes on January 5th. And when that stopped sufficing, he decided to let it out for everyone to hear. But in that case, everyone was just an asleep Mello that was not looking forward to waking up.

"Bloody fucking hell." Matt spoke loudly. "This is bullshit." He continued. "Very, very funny. You proofed your fucking point." Matt claimed. Mello woke up startled, sat up fast and felt uneasy, like something was about to happen. "That's you being nice _blablabla_." Matt proceeded. Mello didn't process the situation just yet. "Now just give it back because it ain't fucking funny."  
"The fuck are you talking about?" Mello asked, pulling his blanket over his head and falling back down on his bed.

"I get it - you hate for some mysterious reason, you want me out of your room, but _this_?" Matt continued without paying attention to what Mello said.

What was really going on that morning was that Matt woke up to find only the front casing of his game boy sitting by his bedside table with a note that read " _let's play treasure hunt_ ". He rolled around the room for as long as he could looking for the other parts of his console but his search was not successful. And when it finally hit him, there was only one person, he thought, who could have done this to him - because there was only one person who pretty much spent enough time with him to do something like that in any event - _Mello._

"Just give it back!" Matt growled as he pulled Mello's blanket away, forcing a very unhappy seventeen-year-old to get up on that icy Thursday.

"What is wrong with you?" Mello asked keeping his eyes still closed as he brought his body up.

"Don't play dumb." Matt stated skeptically.

"You are throwing a tantrum at six a.m. and I am the one playing dumb?" Mello hissed. "Maybe you should revisit your concepts."

"Maybe you should give my gameboy back!"

"What are you talking about?" Mello inquired legitimately confused. Matt threw the gameboy casing with the note on his lap.

"Does this bring something up?" Matt asked nervously.

"No." Mello replied. "Because I had nothing to do with it."

"Cut if off." He hissed.

"I mean it." And then it hit him: _Drake_. "When was the last time you had your game thing with you?" He asked.

"It was in my pocket."

"But then you took your clothes off." Mello said calmly.

"What?" He widened his eyes with the question.

"To shower."

"Yes." Matt nodded.

"And after you showered?"

"Now that you brought it up-" Matt sat back down on his bed "-I couldn't find it in my clothes after I showered." He shrugged. "Figured I had put it somewhere else."

"But you did not?"

Matt denied with his head.

" _Someone_ must have taken it while you showered last night." Mello concluded. "And - most importantly - it couldn't have been me, because I was in the library and Mrs. Thompson can back me up on that. Plus, _you_ saw me arriving."

He was right. Silence filled the room - the kind of silence that feels like someone should say something, but no one does. Mello rolled his eyes at Matt's lack of response and got up from his bed, headed to the closet and grabbed a change of clothes to get ready for the day. As he was about to enter the bathroom, however, Matt opened his mouth:

"But you know who it was, don't you?"


	5. He said she said

A/N: I am sorry

 _(Earlier that day)_

"No." Mello lied without much conviction.

"Seriously?" Matt raised an eyebrow and opened his crooked grin a bit. "That's all you've got?"

"What do I get" he asked "if I tell you all I know?"

"You get to _help me."_ Matt snapped. "And helping people actually makes you a better person."

"When did I give you the impression that I care?" He told him.

"Why does everything has to be a game with you?" Matt questioned.

"What?" Mello held his head up and stared at Matt for a couple of seconds, slightly confused.

"You know" Matt continued "ever since the first time we exchanged words, you made it a game: you think of something to make me miserable, I think of something to make you miserable - and the most successful of us gets something in return."

"I like winning." Truth.

"Think straight, though. I'm going to win, because I've got a head start: you are already miserable." Matt finished.

"That's your way to try and get my help or are you just usually this philosophical early in the morning?" Asked a very unamused Mello.

"Did it work?"

"No." Mello replied curtly. "And we are going to have to review your morning manners." He turned his back to Matt, grabbing a couple of books that seated by the bedside table and headed to the door, only to find another piece of the game set, hanging outside on the doorknob, that almost fell when he pulled it down and forward. He picked it up with his free hand and called the other boy.

"I just found another piece of your game thing, I guess." He threw the plastic case onto Matt who grabbed it by reflex. "I think there is a note, too." Mello told him as he saw a small yellow piece of sticky paper laying on the floor.

"What does it say?" Matt asked, getting up from his bed and joining Mello by the door frame.

" _Clue 1#: gaming is also a type of art, isn't it?_ " Mello laughed. "This is kinda lame."

"Gaming _is_ art." Matt affirmed.

"Whatever." Mello sticked the yellow paper on Matt's bare chest and started his walk through the hallway towards the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Matt asked, following him.

"To have breakfast."

"You can't go."

"I _can't_ have breakfast?" Mello inquired, without looking back.

"What I mean is you have got to help me with this - you know everything about this place - and I am positive you know who did it."

"I already said no." Mello replied firmly.

" _Come. On._ " He insisted.

"No."

"Please."

"Nie."

"Ple-ease."

"Não."

"I am _begging_ you."

"Nein."

"You are going to run out of languages eventually."

"I know plenty."

"Just help me already!" Matt begged loudly from the top of the staircase.

"Jesus Christ, just drop it." Mello snapped from the ground floor and Matt rushed down to reach him.

"I'll tell Roger." Matt declared.

" _What_?" That caused Mello to interrupt his march.

"Help me. Or I'll tell Roger you did it."

"But _I didn't_." He turned to Matt and narrowed his eyes. "And _you know_ it."

"Does Roger know it?" Matt asked him in an almost whispery tone, defiantly, as Mello gave him the _"I'm going to kill you in your sleep"_ look.

"That is a really, really low blow and I am going to remember it." Mello hissed. " _Forever._ "

"I am desperate." Matt told him. "I'll risk it."

"Fine, Satan." He rolled his eyes for the eleventh time this morning. "You might want to put on a shirt first." Mello pointed out. "No one is amused to see your lack of abs." Blushing would have been no problem, but what Matt did was go as red as his hair and radiate heat like a hot pan before heading back to his room in a quick pace to the sound of the giggles of a couple of younger girls passing by the entrance hall.

 _(Inquiry)_

"Didn't think you were going to act so fast." Mello declared as he approached Drake by the food table a few seconds after entering the dining hall.

"Morning too." Drake complimented with a half-smile.

"What are you talking about?" Luke asked, joining their conversation as always.

"The latest prank you pulled off last night." He told them. "Kid is going crazy."

"Dunno what you're talking about, Mels." Drake stated calmly, taking a sip of his water bottle.

"Don't call me that." Mello snapped. "And don't play stupid with me."

"No, seriously mate - I don't know what you are talking about." Drake reinforced.

"Sure we have discussed the subject but we haven't done anything yet." Luke completed. "Why?"

"Liars." Mello said curtly.

"Easy there." Drake said with a grin. "I was playing tennis at the regionals last night. I _invited_ you to watch the game on Monday, remember?" He told the truth.

"And I was watching the match for I am a good friend." Luke stated.

"Did you win?" Mello asked to gain some time to process the information that got locked away somewhere in his brain because he was positive they were the ones behind the whole thing.

"Of course." Drake and Luke held their hands in the air and slapped them against each other.

"Sorry to ruin the happy mood but someone has stolen your prank idea." Mello said. "And executed it to perfection while you were showing off your athletic abilities, I dare to say."

"Seriously?" Luke frowned. "Damn, it took me forever to come up with that one." He cried. Drake didn't seem to be affected by the news.

"We are going to think of something else." Drake affirmed.

"Yeah, right." Luke sighed. "Not with your current esprit."

"What's going on?" Mello asked unwillingly but making an effort to sound sympathetic - not that it worked.

"Linda ditched me yesterday." Drake said, closing his face.

" _And_ has been avoiding ever since." Luke finished the story.

"Right." Mello let out an uninterested gasp. "I think I am going to seat over there because I left my feelings on my other pants." The boys nodded. "Best of luck." Mello said before leaving them behind.

 _(A little help)_

"Come on." Linda muttered as he dragged Brianna down the hall towards the dining area.

"I don't think that is a very good idea." She said in a trembling voice.

"Calm down. It's not like I am locking you two in a closet and forcing you to play 7 minutes in heaven." Linda said, still holding the other girl's arm firmly.

"The simple fact that you have thought of that concerns me." Brianna replied in a low tone. "I just don't wanna go."

"We are just going to say hullo." Linda declared with much certainty.

"He doesn't like to be bothered." Brianna whispered as they entered the room, still attached by the arms.

"He doesn't like _anything_." She told her, in a less whispery tone.

"Another good reason to abort the mission." Brianna argued without success as they stopped by the food table and Linda picked up a tray from the pile in front of them.

"Just grab some breakfast, smile and nod." Linda gave the instructions. "Act naturally."

"I think I want to throw up." She said as she placed a small wheat loaf of bread on her plate.

"Hold it, then."

"That is a little disgusting." Linda seemed not to hear that as she spotted Drake leaning against the food table near the fruit basket and only started to breath again when she was sure he hadn't noticed her.

"Let's go this way." She told Brianna and turned back.

"But I want to pick up an apple first." Brianna complained.

"No, you don't."

"But I do!" She talked back. "Oh." Brianna stopped when she noticed what Linda was doing. " _Right_." Then turned her back and started following the blond girl. "Why are you avoiding him?" She whispered.

"I am not avoiding _him_." Linda said emphatically.

"You are too."

"I am avoiding a conversation."

"That's about the same thing." Brianna concluded.

"What do you know about relationships?" She snapped.

"Harsh." She said mostly to herself.

"Look _who_ is sitting over there." Linda changed the subject. Brianna chocked a little. "Come on: fix your face and boobs and let's go."

"Linda!" She exclaimed, crossing both arms over her breasts as Linda pulled one of the straps of her bra up.

"I am only trying to help you." Linda mouthed as they approached a quiet Mello sitting alone by the table near a window.

"Hullo." She complimented picking up a seat to herself. Brianna attempted a greeting that sounded like the first letter of the word got repeated a thousand times before the rest was finally spit out - but even then it was indecipherable - and then felt into the sit by Linda's side.

"This seat is taken." Mello informed, caused Brianna to startle on her spot and bump her hand on Linda's orange juice, almost dropping the glass on the floor. "Not yours." He soothed her. "The one being occupied by the heartless blond that's ignoring her boyfriend." She would have smiled hadn't her body been completely frozen. Linda frowned. "Oh, don't think I just missed your route change by the food table."

"One: he's not my boyfriend. Two: I am not ignoring him. Three: not your business." She snapped.

"What is he, then?" He inquired in a quite sarcastic tone.

" _It's complicated_." Linda sighed.

"They haven't DTR." Brianna let out. Mello stared at her blankly for a couple of seconds waiting for her to add something to that sentence. " _Defined the relationship_."

"For someone specialised in labelling everything, that was uncalled for." Mello stated before biting another piece of his french toast.

"Shut up." Linda raged as she pushed her tray forward without touching her food. "You made me lose my appetite." She concluded.

"Great." Mello talked back. "That means you can leave."

Linda pouted as she got up, stepping heavily on the floor by each move. "Let's go, Bree."

"But I-" Brianna didn't stand a chance to continue her sentence.

"Let's. Go." The other girl quickly stood up, leaving half of her wheat bread breakfast behind, and they both exited the dining room half-satisfied in all aspects.

 _(Gossip)_

Matt left his room with the same attire for the second day in a row and tried to run straight to the dining hall to meet with Mello - who was finally going to help him find the person who teared his precious portable game set apart - but it was a very unsuccessful attempt, because as soon as he stepped out of the dorm he bumped into something - or rather, someone - blocking his way though the corridor.

"Sorry." He said briefly, planning to head downstairs quickly. The other boy didn't reply to the apology.

"You seem distressed." The boy pointed out. It was only then Matt noticed it was the creepy kid from the garden the other day.

"Hello too." Matt replied.

"Did your smoking habits got discovered and now your are going through the abstinence process?" Near inquired plainly.

"Not really." Matt answered raising an eyebrow at the boy's lack of discretion.

"Did something happen?" The boy proceeded without making eye contact, playing with a lock of hair.

"Everything's ok." Matt lied, mostly because he wanted the conversation to come to an end.

"That does not make much sense." He continued, preventing Matt from walking away.

"Someone stole my gameboy and is messing around with me." Matt told him without much detail, unsure of the reasons that led him to explain the causes of his current mood to a weird kid that wasn't able to look him in the eyes.

"Interesting." Near remarked as he stared at him, although Matt felt like he was staring through him because it felt like the younger kid had absolutely no interest in him whatsoever.

"Why would you say that?" He questioned

"I believe I overheard Drake and Luke planning something of the sort during lunch yesterday." Matt raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure?"

"I am positive that is what I heard." His voice didn't let out a shadow of doubt. Matt muttered a few swear-words before pushing the boy aside to make his way through the corridor and down the stairs to meet Mello in the dining hall.

 _(He said she said)_

"Who is Drake?" Matt asked as he placed both his hand against the table Mello was sitting by quietly reading his book for the first lesson of the day while eating a pair of french toasts.

"Why do you want to know?" Mello replied, without giving him much attention, much less deviating his eyes from the paper.

"Who the fuck is Drake?" Matt repeated in a louder tone. It would have been no surprise if Drake himself had heard it too and presented himself, but luckily he didn't.

"Geez." Mello began. "Smily guy by the food table. Why, now?" He completed and waited for an answer that never came, because the next thing he heard was Matt's angry march towards the opposite side of the room - which finally caused him to held his head up and catch a glimpse of the scenario, feeling a slight pang of regret for his last sentence.

" _Shit._ " He muttered to himself as he stood up quickly and started following the other boy through the crowd of tables, chairs, trays and kids that started filling the area.

 _(Morning manners)_

Drake was not exactly tall, his features were striking but not conspicuously handsome. His hair was wiry and brownish and often seemed like it didn't want to cope with his looks, but it suited him well enough.

There was, however, something slightly odd about him - although it was difficult to say what it was. Perhaps it was that he smiled slightly too broadly and gave people the unnerving impression that he had a hundred teeth in his mouth. Don't get it wrong - he had great teeth - if he wasn't an orphan, one would probably think he was the son of a couple of dentists.

He also had an almost American accent that used to drive Mello crazy but, after they turned fifteen, he seemed to stop caring about that.

That's another interesting thing about Drake: he was most likely the closest thing to a friend Mello had, probably because they had spent over a decade locked together in the same place and, with that, it gets a little harder to ignore each other and too much effort and dedication to loath each other too - specially because Mello was already directing most of his hate to _someone_ else.

He was obviously a genius, there was no denying that, but he often preferred to concentrate his brains into... Other business.

Like girls.

He could hold their attention like nobody else, all out of an unconscious desire to prove constantly that he was the one.

Drake always managed to find his way with the ladies. Smooth talking guy - a real charmer. Charismatic (it was probably the teeth), very laid back - one could probably spent hours trying to point out the actual reason he always managed to get the birds to take their knickers of within a few minuets of chitchatting.

In that aspect, he had a greatest and latest conquer: Linda.

That one took him a lot of work and much more than only a few minutes of pointless conversation; most of the guys though he was never going to get there, overall because Linda doesn't have a heart, but Drake always insisted that he didn't need her to have a heart as long as she had a fud.

He was right.

Partially.

That because, what really happened, was that he ended up fancying her in the middle of the process which made it a whole lot more difficult. For him, that is, because for Linda, it opened a set of new possibilities which ended up in their ill-fated relationship that consisted in regular meetings on the Visual Arts Lab after class on Wednesdays, which Drake was not unhappy with - far from that - but not even close to happy either.

He pretty much took it as the universe's comeback at him and ended up accepting it without complaining because deep inside he knew it was about fair enough.

It was, however, with the thought that the universe was suddenly crossing the boundaries and starting to be a little too harsh on him that he woke up on that Thursday morning, still not recovered from the tennis match he played last night - which he won - and from the fact that Linda decided to blew him off from their usual meeting yesterday for no apparent reason.

Either way, he got up earlier than he had expected and carried on his morning routine, taking Luke's blanket away so his roommate would get up and getting ready for the day in his usual attire composed of slightly loose ripped jeans and a plaid shirt. Right after, he went downstairs to grab some breakfast alongside with Luke, and now found himself leaning against the food table, exchanging a couple of words with his friend now and then in the mostly empty dining hall.

It was then that, seemingly out of nowhere, a slender boy with thin ginger hair appeared somehow just behind Luke and - in one single shattering motion - punched Drake and all of his teeth square in the jaw.

 _(Resort to diplomacy)_

"Never thought of resorting to diplomacy, did you?" Drake scoffed from the floor as Mello appeared from the small crowd that started forming around them, standing his hand to his fallen friend, who took it with no thinking, letting out small sob.

"Let go of me!" Matt debated himself against Luke, who was holding him back by the arms.

"So you can go around throwing punches?" Luke spat. "I don't think so."

"I wouldn't if you hadn't stolen my gameboy!" Matt accused.

"Not again." Drake rolled his eyes.

"It wasn't him." Mello said curtly.

"I was told it was." Matt snapped.

"By whom?" The three boys spoke in unison. Matt was not able to reply as an older figure made his way through the crowd too.

"The four of you." Roger begun, dragging his glasses down to the tip of his nose.

"I am innocent!" Mello claimed.

"Me too!" Luke followed him.

"In my office." Roger ignored them.

"I am the one who got punched!" Said Drake bringing his right hand on top of his sore jaw after opening it apparently too quickly.

"Now." The older man added.


End file.
